


The emeralds of Girion

by fandomearth



Series: Barduil fics [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Barduil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 20:43:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10316612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomearth/pseuds/fandomearth
Summary: Just as Thranduil believes that all happiness is away from him, Bard declares his love for the elvenking





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for the Barduil fandom- just letting you guys know

Thranduil sat on his throne, his face stern and his heart heavy. A week had passed since Legolas had left Mirkwood in search of the Dunedain, and yet his sorrow did not wane. But Legolas was as stubborn as he was, and would not stay in his father's kingdom after the banishment of Tauriel. He could have begged his son to stay for all he wished, but he knew that it would have been in vain. Would his son have stayed had he forgiven Tauriel? Possibly, and yet Thranduil would not cede to his son's desires, perhaps out of pride. Was he not the king after all? 

 

But Legolas was not the only person whose memory troubled him. There was the dragon slayer, Bard, who was soon to be named king of Dale. His memory taunted him, and the remembrance of his deep almond eyes pained him. Thranduil knew that it had been foolish of him to fall for a human, a being whose existence would not last half a millennia. He reproached himself for believing that there could have been something between them, that perhaps Bard could correspond his love. Thranduil had seen his children, and all children must have a mother. Bard must surely have a wife, he thought bitterly. And no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, his feelings for Bard did not lessen.

 

Secretly, Thranduil wished he would have perished in battle. Dying while fighting against the enemy seemed a more honorable death than fading, than dying of grief. Thranduil did not even want to think of the turmoil of emotions he would have to face when the time came to meet Bard and his noble wife, by then queen of Dale. Being impaled by an orc might have been less painful, or at least not as shameful.

 

As he reached for another cup of wine, one of his guards came in haste. "My king, Lord Bard has asked to see you. He says it is a matter of great urgency, and that he must see you in private."

 

Thranduil feared as if his heart might escape out of his chest. "Tell him to come in, and close the door."

 

"As you wish, my lord."--Said the guard, closing the door promptly. Then the door was opened by Bard, and Thranduil's eyes met his in a fervent manner. His hair was neatly combed and his clothes more regal in appearance, which only made Thranduil even more smitten with him. "Bard, come in."--He said, trying not to reveal a hint of nervousness in his voice. "My guard said you had a matter of great urgency to discuss with me. What is it?"

Bard spoke, stumbling upon his words. "I come to bring you a gift, my lord."--He said, as he extended an open box to Thranduil.--"These are the emeralds of Girion, my ancestor."

 

Thranduil's eyes widened with the sight of the shimmering emeralds. Bard had not just come here to see him, but to offer him a gift as well! Thranduil fervently wished that the emeralds were to demonstrate his affections towards him, but he knew better than to hope for such things. Why was he trying to flatter him, the elvenking? Had he not already won his heart?

 

"I am afraid I do not understand. Why are you granting this to me? You owe me nothing."

"They are a token of my love for you, my lord."

 

Thranduil was aghast, not knowing what to say. Surely he had heard his words wrongly. Bard proceeded to speak, and the trembling quality of his voice was evident. "I know that I may only be a mortal, while you be an elf. I know not whether your wife lives or not, or whether you heart belongs to another. I would not be so arrogant as to believe that an elvenking would pledge himself to a mortal man that is not even a king yet, but I could no longer contain myself. I know that my years are brief, while a hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. It is evident to me that my feelings are not returned, and that they will never be. Farewell, my lord. That is all I had to say to you."

Thranduil, who had been in shock during the entire time, reacted immediately as Bard was about to open the door. "Bard, wait."--He said, touching his arm ever slightly.--"I thought you had a wife."

 

"Aye, I did. But she is long gone."--Bard said, opening the door once more."

Thranduil felt like he had been ridden of a terrible burden, and his sorrow ached him no more. Not only was Bard's wife dead, but he had his love as well. Thranduil rushed towards him. "Stay with me. Stay with me forever.--He said pleadingly, and kissed him passionately. Bard, despite being taken aback, returned the gesture. "You- you feel the same?"--Bard asked in his bewilderment.

 

"I have always felt the same, _nin mel."_  


Bard's eyes sprinkled with curiosity. "What did you call me?"

Thranduil smiled. "I think you know."

 

Bard handled the necklace, placing it in his fair neck. Their lips encountered once more, although it was Bard who began the kiss this time. "I think I do know."


End file.
